THE PRINCESS OF TENNIS VERSION 1
by Avery Fischer Price
Summary: After a traumatizing incident, Sakuno gets amnesia and finds herself in a strange new school where she becomes the "Second" of the mysterious, elite tennis club. Posing as a sickly boy, what will happen when her school plays Seigaku in the Nationals?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with The Prince of Tennis and own absolutely no rights to it. All credit goes to Konomi-san and the people who made this awesome manga possible!

**The Princess of Tennis (version 1) **

**Prologue (set when Sakuno and Ryoma are eighth graders)**

"_Sakuno! SAKUNO! Tell me, did you do it? Did you try to hurt Echizen?" Sumire Ryuzaki shook the white-faced girl by her thin shoulders so hard that she lost her balance and fell onto the asphalt ground of Seigaku's tennis courts._

_Sakuno let out a gasp of pain and surprise as she was thrown onto the ground. Pain shot through her left forearm when she landed on it, and her big brown eyes welled up with tears. She blinked and they spilled over, sliding down her cheeks and onto the ground._

_The Seigaku regulars were standing in front of her, along with Tomoka, the Seigaku trio, and Sakuno's grandmother, whose face was a mix of pain, betrayal, and anger._

_Kaidoh-senpai was glaring at her murderously, looking more like a poisonous serpent than ever. He wasn't even fighting with Momoshiro for once. The Dunk Smash regular's fists were clenched and he was grinding his teeth together._

_Inui-senpai was shaking his head in disbelief. Beside him, Tezuka-buchou's face was stoic and dangerous. Even Fuji-senpai was not wearing his usual calm smile; the sharp blue eyes were open and glinting with malice. Kikumaru and Oishi were looking away uncomfortably, but Sakuno could see that they too were seething with anger and betrayal. Kawamaru simply wore a hurt and puzzled expression (luckily he wasn't in burning mode)._

_Tomo-chan was staring at her best friend like she didn't even know her._

_The Seigaku trio (mostly Horio) just gawked at her in astonishment._

"_Mada mada dane."_

_Sakuno's head snapped up when she heard that line. It could only belong to one person, after all. She peered around the regulars' barrier to see a boy sitting shakily on the ground, supported by the Seigaku trio. His raven black hair, usually covered by a white Fila cap, was mussed and matted with crusty blood. Fresh streams of the bright red liquid, despite Oishi's frantic attempts to staunch the bleeding, dripped from all over his face and appendages, which were badly cut and bruised._

_Sakuno felt her breathing quicken and her heart clench._

**Ryoma-kun…**

_He lifted his bandaged face, amber eyes boring into hers._

"_Well, Ryuzaki? Answer. Why did you do it?" the tennis prince said in a monotone voice. "Did you really think such a pathetic little trap would be enough to hurt _**me**?_"_

"_I-I didn't-" Sakuno was scrambling to find a reply in her jumbled mind when a fist came out of nowhere and collided with her head, slamming it into the ground. The tennis court spun as Sakuno was yanked up by her T-shirt and shaken._

"_Why did you do it?!" Momoshiro screamed. "Why, Ryuzaki? Why did you try to kill Echizen? I thought you liked him! I thought I could trust you, Why did you betray us?"_

"_Momo-senpai…" Sakuno gasped as she tried to focus._

"_Don't give me that senpai shit!" Momoshiro yelled. "You pretended to be so innocent and sweet, but you're just a dirty little liar!" He shook her violently._

"_I'm sorry!" Sakuno cried out. "Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"_

_Fuji suddenly appeared by the Dunk Smash player's side. "Momoshiro." He put a restraining hand on the third-year's shoulder and shook his head._

"_Fuji's right," Oishi said hastily, trying to calm the temperamental tennis player down. "Calm down."_

_Momoshiro's eyes widened in disbelief. "B-but senpais!" he sputtered. "She-"_

"_That's enough," Tezuka said, stepping forward. "Put her down, Momoshiro. That's an order." He met Momoshiro's gaze evenly._

"_Argh…fine," Momoshiro growled, releasing his grip. Sakuno fell back onto the ground in a quivering heap, curling herself up into a tight ball and whimpering. _

_At that point, Ryoma managed to stand himself up. Leaning on a concerned Katsuo and Horio, the tennis prince said, "I'm fine, Momo-senpai. You can go home now."_

"_Echizen!" Momoshiro protested. "Ochibi, you need to see a doctor," Kikumaru agreed._

"_Enough," Ryuzaki-sensei said. "Echizen is right. So are Kikumaru and Momoshiro. All of you," she indicated to the regulars and second-years, "go home. Inui, Oishi, and myself will take Ryoma to the hospital. Now GO." She glared at them._

"_Y-yes, sensei," the students replied meekly. One by one, they picked up their bags and left the tennis court._

"_Now then," Ryuzaki-sensei said, turning to the remaining regulars. "We better get Echizen to the hospital. Come with me." She led them towards the parking lot. Ryoma leaned on Oishi and limped the way there._

_Sakuno was left alone on the deserted court. She sobbed quietly, still wound in a fetal position, and the sounds gradually faded into silence as the sun went down and everything became dark._

Author's Message: So, what do you think for my first fic? Is it good? Too dark or AU? Please review! It's kind of confusing now, but hopefully that will clear up later. It's a really good story, I think. I accept any kind of critique.


	2. Goodbye, Ryoma kun

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with The Prince of Tennis and own absolutely no rights to it. All credit goes to Konomi-san and the people who made this awesome manga possible!

**The Princess of Tennis (version 1) **

**The Train Ride to A Long Way from Home**

The lady at the Attendance desk was a dry, pasty woman who seemed to look at everything and everyone with distaste. When she saw Sakuno, she wrinkled her crooked nose and snapped, "And you are?"

"I-I…" Sakuno was too petrified to speak coherently and simply blushed and stuttered. "Um…my name…Ryuzaki. Sakuno Ryuzaki."

The woman muttered something under her breath and ran a finger down the clipboard.

"Eh…oh here you are. Sakuno Ryuzaki, 14 years old. Previously a second-year and Seigaku. You're here because you were part of a serious assault on a member of your school's tennis club." It wasn't a question.

"I-I…"

The lady sighed and put down the clipboard. Her sharp grey eyes sized up Sakuno's small frame. "You don't look like a thug, that's for sure. Oh well, appearances are deceiving. I'm sure that behind that cute face of yours you're wearing a delinquent's mask."

Sakuno couldn't find a response to that statement, and the woman obviously didn't expect one. She grabbed a sheet of yellow paper off her desk and tossed it to the girl. "Take that and go to room 3. And take your backpack with you if you don't want it stolen."

"Ah…hai. Arigato." Sakuno bowed quickly and hurried to the designated room. As she pushed pass two gun-carrying security guards, Sakuno caught a glimpse of her grandmother's back. For a fleeting moment, the chestnut-haired girl considered turning around and calling out to her.

_Please, obaa-chan, don't leave me here!_

Sumire Ryuzaki's reflection walked out the front door and into the street without looking back.

"Hey girl, you gotta problem?" One of the guards was looking at her suspiciously. Sakuno shook her head no and walked in.

The room was empty, bare like a cell. It was basically a cubicle with one door. Except cubicles weren't made out of iron and didn't have security guards positioned outside. Sakuno dropped her backpack on the ground and slumped to the floor. She tucked her knees under her chin and closed her doe-brown eyes.

_Flashback_

"_Please obaa-chan, don't make me go there!" she had cried the morning her grandmother bluntly told her to pack a few things because she was leaving. "I'm sorry for what I did to Ryoma-kun. Please don't make me leave obaa-chan!" Sakuno begged, tugging at the woman's leg._

"_Be quiet." Ryuzaki-sensei stepped away quickly and glared at her granddaughter, who was crying and kneeling on the bedroom floor. "You are not my granddaughter. I don't know you. Now pack. You have 5 minutes."_

_Five minutes later, Sakuno was dragged, still screaming, into the car and driven to the Juvenile Delinquent Reception Building. It was a large, iron, miserly structure, which did little to lift Sakuno's mood. Her grandmother pushed her out and shoved her into the JDRB._

"_I hate you. I never want to see you again."_

_End Flashback._

"Ryuzaki-san? It's time to go." A surprisingly mild, kind voice interrupted Sakuno's reverie. She looked up in surprise. A middle-aged man standing in the doorway was talking to her. He resembled Fuji-senpai somewhat, with a calm smile and light brown hair. The only difference was that this man wore glasses.

"M-me?" The man nodded, motioning for her to follow him.

Sakuno debated on whether or not to go. Finally, figuring she had nothing to lose, she picked up her bag and obediently trailed after him out of the room

"My name as Yukito Ikatani, your escort, by the way," the man said as they walked down the crowded hall. Apparently, some big event was happening, because the hallway was jammed with people. "And you are Sakuno Ryuzaki, correct?" he added, smiling.

"H-hai, Ikatani-san."

Yukito laughed. "There's no need to be so formal, Ryuzaki-chan. It's not like you're going to prison or anything." He saw Sakuno's skeptical gaze and amended, "Well, perhaps that's not best way to put it. But still, I don't bite."

"Where am I going?" Sakuno asked. She looked around. "Is there some sort of assembly?"

"No, you're going on a train, didn't you know?"

Sakuno's hand tightened on the slip of yellow paper. "A train? To where?" Yukito frowned concernedly.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked. "Perhaps it would be better to wait-"

"I want to know now. I'm sick of not knowing what's going to happen to me." Sakuno was silent for a moment, surprised at her own audacity.

Yukito hesitated for a moment, and then said softly, "To the Tokyo Adolescent Correction Center."

"I beg your pardon, Ikatani-san?"

"It's juvie, of a sort," the man said quickly. "Children about as old as you are sent there to be, erm…corrected."

Sakuno was silent for a moment. "Sounds fun," she finally said, sarcastically. "How long?"

"As long as they see fit."

"Crap."

"Try to see the light in it, Ryuzaki-chan," Yukito said. They had stepped through a door and were standing on a bustling platform filled with rowdy-looking teenagers. "It should take no more than a year for you."

"Do you even know what I'm here for?" Sakuno asked drily.

A shadow crossed over Yukito's peaceful face and he murmured, "Assault on a member of your school's tennis team."

"Exactly. I don't think they're going to let someone with something like _that _get of the juvie in a year."

They were standing in front of the train now. Yukito nodded to the stationmaster, who let Sakuno on board.

"You're to go to compartment 124," the uniform-clad man said gruffly. "Nice to see you again, Yukito-kun. Still trying to help the delinquents, eh?" he added.

Yukito simply smiled good-naturedly and handed Sakuno her backpack. "Be good, all right? I'm sure it was all just a big mistake. You're a good person, Ryuzaki-chan." He held up a hand in farewell and walked away, soon disappearing into the crowds of people. The chestnut-haired girl watched him go thoughtfully.

_Ikatani-san is a nice person…_

"The train will begin moving in two minutes. All passengers, please be on board at departure time," an automated loudspeaker blared over the noise, startling Sakuno out of her thoughts.

"What an adventure," she mumbled to herself sarcastically. "Oh well, grin and bear it Sakuno. You can do this!" She marched determinedly into her segment of the train.

A few minutes later, the wheels began to turn and the train lurched forward on the track, going slowly at first but then moving faster and faster.

Sakuno was still searching for her compartment when she saw the platform being left behind her. Briefly, she pressed her face against the glass, staring at the onlookers, but her grandmother and the Seigaku students were nowhere to be seen. Sakuno watched helplessly as she rode way on the train, to a Long Way from Home.


	3. Train ride to a long way from home

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with The Prince of Tennis and own absolutely no rights to it. All the credit goes to Konomi-san and the people who made this awesome manga possible!

The Explosion

Sakuno slunk into her compartment, shutting the door and dropping onto a bench. It was exactly the same as the room at the JDRB; tiny, cramped, and prison-like.

To be fair, the room wasn't terrible. It was about the size of a spacious closet, clean, and with air conditioning. Not that AC would do her much good in the winter, but still.

Sigh.

_Think of the positives,_ Sakuno told herself. _It's not that bad. It could be a lot worse. A giant thug could-_

_BANG!_

"Open up!" Sakuno looked up in horror to see a huge (and apparently drunk) teenage boy pounding on her door. He smiled leeringly. "Hey cute girl, lemme in. I wanna play with you…" He staggered as the train lurched and bumped, trying to twist the knob.

Without thinking, Sakuno shot out of her seat, slammed herself against the door with all her might, and turned the lock. It slid into place with a soft click. Still not satisfied, the hyperventilating girl shut two more bolts. Then she crawled back to the bench, hugged her knees, and watched in wide-eyed terror as the pounding continued.

Eventually, the conductor came and dragged the giggly, intoxicated teen back to his compartment. Sakuno finally relaxed her tense vigil, but she didn't move.

It was getting quite dark by now. A quick glance at the glow-in-the-dark wall clock showed a time of 10:53 pm.

_Wow, I didn't move for three hours…_

Sakuno yawned involuntarily. Realizing that she should probably go to sleep now, the chestnut-haired girl made a makeshift bed with the bench, and her backpack and denim jacket. A bit chilly, but it would have to do. Lying down however, her head bumped against something hard and round.

"Hm…what could it be?" she wondered aloud sleepily. Digging through the contents of her bag, Sakuno pulled out a neon green tennis ball. If she squinted, she could just make out the faint drawing of a cap-wearing cartoon boy etched onto the fluorescent surface. Instantly, Sakuno recognized this as the tennis ball with Ryoma's face.

She bit her lip uncertainly. Should she keep it, or throw it away? Finally, deciding that a bittersweet memory of Ryoma-kun would be better than none at all, she dropped the tennis ball into her side pocket and laid down again.

"And now to finally get some quality sleep…"

Sakuno's caramel-colored eyes were just drifting shut when a giant KABOOM! rocked the entire train and threw her off the bench.

"Kyahhh!!!" Sakuno yelped as she hit the floor hard. "Ow…what in the world happened?" She sat up shakily. More bangs.

For a fleeting moment, Sakuno thought that the drunken thug had come back. Then she saw smoke pouring into the corridor and screaming people tearing through it, many of them cut and spattered with blood.

"Fire!" someone yelled.

"It's exploding! The whole train is gonna blow up!"

"I'm getting outta here! Move!"

Sakuno gasped and stumbled towards the door. Wrenching it open, she was immediately knocked back by a bombardment of knees, elbows, and fists. Another violent jolt threw the frail girl backwards into the opposite wall, hitting her head and causing the room to spin.

_There's no way I'll be able to get out of here,_ Sakuno panicked. The flames had reached her compartment by now. Black smoke billowed in, causing the girl to cough and choke. Through the smoggy haze, Sakuno's eyes made out one last escape route: a window on the side of one wall. But it was sealed shut.

_Guess I have nothing to lose,_ Sakuno thought grimly. Taking a deep breath, she threw herself at the glass as hard as she could.

Sakuno screamed in pain as she hurtled through the window. The glass shards pierced her thin skin and ripped across her entire body, spilling rivers of blood. Then the ground dropped away beneath her feet and the air whooshed past her at an alarming speed. Moments later, her segment of the train blew apart in a fiery inferno. The flames just barely licked her already cut face, but several chunks of blackened debris struck Sakuno's body.

She continued to fall down the rocky hill which the railroad was built on. Smashing into the hard ground, Sakuno's vision became bright red; then total black, as she rolled across the ground and finally came to a barely conscious stop.

In her pain-filled daze, Sakuno was vaguely aware of a tremendous roar as the entire length of the train incinerated and blew up, the various flaming segments flying and landing everywhere around her. However, she was too tired to care, as a wave of tiredness washed over her and dulled the needle-sharp pain.

_No, no, I can't give in!_ Sakuno thought frantically. _Ryoma kun… _she thought desperately, the tennis prodigy's face flashed through her mind. _I need to tell you…I'm sorry._

Sakuno lost, and she finally gave up to the inky black darkness that filled up her mind and dragged her down into quiet nothingness.

Author's Note: So what do ya think of this chapter? I know all of them so far have been super depressing, but I promise I'll make them happy, or at least neutral, in the next few chapters. Please review!

Today was the last day of school!!!!! (June 23rd) I'm writing the chapters out of order because…I don't know why.

P.S. Since I'm going to the Johns Hopkins CTY summer program in Lancaster (Amish county), there will probably be a three week gap starting from June 28th. Also, I might not be able to update for the whole summer 'coz 1) My parents don't want me to write for ; that's why I'm doing this in secret and 2) We're going to Disney for my little brother. So sorry! I'll try to get in as many chapters as I can, though.


	4. Sakuno has amnesia!

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with The Prince of Tennis and own absolutely no rights to it. All credit goes to Konomi-san and the people who made this awesome manga possible!

**The Princess of Tennis (version 1) **

**Sakuno has Amnesia!**

I wake up, and my head hurts like hell.

In fact, my whole body is pounding and aching. What happened?

"Urgh…" I groan as I sit up. Rubbing my head, I look around to find out exactly where I am.

Oh. My. God.

No way. No frickin' way this is real. I'm lying smack in the middle of the mountains at the sight of a train wreck. There are parts of it scattered everywhere, ripped, mangled, burning.

Fire.

I touch my cheek gingerly.

"Gah!" Wincing, I draw my hand away quickly. So those are burn marks on my face. That explains all the flames.

There's something I don't get though. These are the mountains, so I expected to see lots of crumbled rock heaped all over the place. Instead, the area around me is flat and ash black, as if some giant barbeque grill had incinerated it. The circle of destruction extends for 200 meters in diameter, cleanly creating a miniature crater in the bedrock. It suddenly dawns on me that I am in the midst of the aftermath of a very serious, catastrophic explosion.

For some reason that I don't quite understand, I don't bother lingering around to look for other survivors or clues as to how this happened. All I want is to get away from this place.

Getting up, I stagger away from the wreckage towards a small, bright group of lights at the base of the mountains.

It isn't until noon that I realize something is wrong.

Getting to the town was easy. I followed the railroad tracks until I reached the outskirts. Then I went over to a roadside food vendor and purchased some white rice balls. They tasted very good, but I can't think of the name for them. There was somehow a backpack with me, so I took money out of that to pay for my meal.

Afterwards, I decided to take a walk. The town was really more like a metropolis, with tall shops, bustling marketplaces, idyllic gardens, and a huge walled castle, which everything else seemed to revolve around.

Plopping down on a bench in the middle of a park, I tried to ignore the curious stares of passerby looking at my torn-up body. It was then that I realized something very, very wrong.

_Who the hell am I???_

Author's Note: So I promised a neutral chapter, and you got one! Kind of random, but heck, it's nice to see a change in Sakuno's shy personality. Plus, it sets the stage for her "rediscovery" of her past. I dunno, I just felt like it pretty much sums up this chapter. That, and I'm lazy and got tired of writing so many long chapters.


	5. The Extremely Messed Up Tennis Match

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with The Prince of Tennis and own absolutely no rights to it. All credit goes to Konomi-san and the people who made this awesome manga possible!

_At long last (though probably no one really reads this fanfic anyway, so it doesn't really matter) the fifth chapter!_

**The Princess of Tennis (version 1) **

**The Seriously Screwed-Up Tennis Match**

The crowds of people pushed past me as they walked through the brightly lit streets, clutching bulging shopping bags. More than a few glanced suspiciously my way, not that I could blame them. Each time a stranger stared at my battered appearance, I couldn't help but turn bright red and bow slightly in apology. Weaving in and out of the lines of the pedestrians, I felt like a fish swimming upstream. They were all headed the opposite way, to their homes.

Home.

The word triggered a sudden cold feeling in my chest, and I quickly ducked into an empty alleyway to sink into the snowy ground, clutching my pounding head. A searing pain formed between my eyebrows, blocking out all my other senses. Images flashed before my eyes, even though they were squeezed shut from pain. A beaten, bloody boy, someone screaming at me, a train, fire, explosion, blood-

"Argh!" I pressed both hands against my temples, trying to block the horrific images in my mind. _What, why is this happening?! Make it stop! I don't want to see this!_

"Would you move?" A deep, impatient voice asked from behind me. In a daze, I turned around and looked up to see a scraggly teen with a red baseball cap staring down at me with an annoyed expression on his face. "You're blocking my way."

"Ah…hai!" I mumbled, scooting over to the wall. "Gomenasai!" The teen breezed past me with a snort, disappearing into the shadows. As soon as he had disappeared from sight, I stumbled awkwardly in the opposite direction, still reeling from the headache.

It was getting dark now; I guessed around nine. Shivering, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and rubbed my arms, trying to warm up. The air was cold enough for me to see my misty breath as I panted. I wandered down the empty cobblestone streets without any particular destination in mind, trying to ignore the warm lights emanating from the snug snow-sprinkled shops around me, when I suddenly heard shouting and the _pok _of balls.

_That's funny, who would be playing sports at this hour and weather? _I wondered, jogging toward the noise. Rounding a corner, I found myself in a wide, noisy court filled with people swinging weird paddles and hitting small neon green rubber balls.

"15-LOVE!" Someone shouted. I walked forward cautiously and peered through the fencing. Two boys stood on opposite ends of a green court with a net in the middle. They each held similar paddle-like metal bars with strings in the middle. One of them had just hit the ball past the other. I assumed this meant he had won. For some reason, this game seemed very familiar to me, though I hadn't a clue what the name was.

"Ah!" The pounding sensation rushed to my head again and I stumbled backwards straight into something tall and bulky. "KYAAAA!!!!" I tripped and sprawled onto the asphalt. "Ouch…"

"What the hell are you doing?" I looked up (I seem to do that a lot…) and gasped. A huge thuggish teenager was lying on the ground behind me. He had dropped a black case and two of the paddles had fallen into the snow. "You made me drop my racquets, baka!" He grabbed and yanked me up. "You wanna pick a fight, girl?"

"I-I'm sorry!" I squeaked. "I didn't mean to-it was an accident-oof!" The thug threw me back onto the ground.

"You think that excuse will get you out of this mess?!" he roared. "I oughtta-'

"Hey Jun, why don't you make her play a match?" The thug stopped and looked over at the throng of jocks that had gathered around us. _Oh crap, this is bad,_ I thought nervously. "If she loses, you can do whatever you want to her!"

"Yeah!"

"Match, match, match!" the teens yelled.

Jun considered it briefly, and then gave a low snort. "Fine. One match. When I win, I get to do whatever I want with you, cutie." He leered at me, and I stifled a gasp of disgust mixed with horror. "Get on the court." He dragged me onto one side of the green rectangle.

"B-b-but I don't have a paddle thing!" I stuttered. "I can't play this game."

Jun stared at me, and then burst out into a raucous laughter. The other boys followed suit.

"This girl doesn't even know what tennis is! What a joke, Jun'll kill her."

Somebody threw me a paddle. It was huge and way too heavy. As I struggled to heft it with one hand like I had seen them do, Jun said, "Now we can play. I'll serve first." He threw the ball into the air and slammed his paddle down on it. The green streak flew towards in a blur as I frantically stared at it.

_Shit, I have no idea what to do ! Wait- what?..._ It felt as if my body was moving on its own. The brief image of a black-haired boy in a white cap hitting a ball flashed through my mind, and I ran to the right side of the court. My right arm lunged out, and I returned the ball with ease. I watched in amazement as it blew past Jun and slammed into the fencing with a crash.

"F-f-fifteen-LOVE? The girl is winning? WTF, Jun's the best! She doesn't even know what tennis is; how can she hit that well?" The crowd murmured uneasily. Jun stared at me in disbelief, but it quickly changed into fury and embarrassment.

"That was a fluke," he yelled, serving another ball at lightning speed. Once again, my body moved without my will and I hit a perfect return that touched the furthest white line and then spun off the side.

"30-LOVE!"

Two shots later, I had scored 4 consecutive points and Jun had gotten none. I had won. He was sweating and was obviously pissed off at being beaten by a puny girl (I was pretty amazed myself) Suddenly, he stomped over to my side, pushed me to the ground, and yelled, "Okay, this has gone far enough. You think I'm gonna let a girl like you ruin my reputation here? I'll make you pay!" He ripped off my jacket and began taking my shirt off.

_Oh crap, what am I gonna do?! _I thought in a panic. _He's gonna rape me. Oh, god, help me someone! _I squeezed my eyes shut as the pounding began again.

"What are you doing? Leave that girl alone," A stone cold voice said behind me.

Author's Message: Gomen gomen gomen gomen gomen!!!! I'm sorry for not updating in such a long time, I'm so lazy. Thank you for all the reviews.  CTY was amazing. The people were so nice and funny and god-freaking BRILLIANT. I lost the game. If you guys ever read this, I really miss you Kathleen, Grace, Carolina, Amanda, Cindy, Leah, and Morgan! C U at CTY next year, I had a great time with you!!!:)

And now for stuff about the actual fanfic. It's really half of a chapter, but I got too lazy to write more, so I'll post the other half some other time. Yup, I'm lazy. This chapter is kind of a filler, since I needed to set the stage for the new characters that will appear in the next chapter.

Oh, I read La Corda D'Oro, a great music manga. I'm thinking about doing a fic where Kahoko and Len meet as kids…what do you guys think?


	6. Holy Shit, I'm surrounded by Bishounens!

Chapter 6: I meet a bunch of strange, good-looking guys

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form, in possession of any part of POT. So please don't sue.

"What are you doing? Leave that girl alone," A stone cold voice said behind me.

In an instant, all of the boys on the court froze. Even the most fervent spectators quickly faded against the fence, pulling down their caps and muttering in fear. Surprised, Jun turned around.

"Sh-Shirogane-sama!" he sputtered.

_-sama, he must be a very important person,_ I thought dimly through my pain. _Shirogane…doesn't that mean silver? _I didn't have long to ponder my mysterious savior's strange name, however, because he said something that made Jun jolt back , effectively dropping the back of my head on the ground. By that time, the pain was so unbearable in my mind that I didn't even feel anything but a slight bump, followed by pure blackness.

I came to on an enormous hospital bed with an extremely enthusiastic voice yelling,

"Mack! Mack! She's awake, she's awake!"

_What the heck?_

Someone pressed a soft moist cloth against my forehead. It had stopped pounding, but the cold towel still felt refreshing. Blearily, I opened my eyes. And shut them. And rubbed them vigorously. And opened them again.

Six teenage boys were standing in front of me. They were tall (most of them anyway), athletic-looking, and okay, I'll admit it, attractive.

"Wh-wha-who?" I sputtered. I couldn't seem to make coherent sounds.

An intelligent-looking boy in oval glasses reached over and pressed a few buttons on the machine hooked up to my left arm. He had sharp, short black hair and calculating brown eyes, though there seemed to be a mischievous glint behind them. "Glad to see you've woken up miss. You were out for quite a while. Gregory," he pointed at a hyper redhead somersaulting behind him, "wanted to wake you up sooner, but I said it wouldn't be good for your health. My name is Mark, by the way."

I nodded dumbly. "So, where am I exactly? The last thing I remember was Jun dropping me, and-"

"You are in St. Augustine Academy, located at the base of Kikyo Mountain," a musical voice said. Its speaker was a sleepy brown-haired boy lounging on a couch. "It's about five miles from the nearest town, but we've got a neighborhood surrounding the school that makes almost everything we need."

"Actually, it's more like ten miles Henry," a Jewish boy laughed from beside Gregory.

Henry blinked slowly. "Oh, right. I guess I must have fallen asleep during the first half of the trip back from summer vacation."

"Nyah, Mack, where's Benjamin?" Gregory asked the Jewish boy. Mack shrugged. "He and Akshay went to the cafeteria for snacks."

"They're probably fighting then."

"Yup."

The talk of food made my stomach growl loudly, but before I had time to blush apologetically Mark was setting a steaming bowl of ramen before me.

"Eat," he commanded. "It's not the healthiest food in the world, but since Gregory lives on it and strawberry soda, it must have lots of electrolytes. Those are things that give you energy by the way." I nodded dumbly.

I finished the whole thing in one minute flat. The hot soup scalded my tongue, but it also sizzled with amazing flavor. And I was ravenous. Slurping down the last soft, warm noodle, I wiped my mouth and looked at my surroundings again. They were spacious, not exactly fancy, but I knew this Saint Augustine Academy wasn't some inner-city school. The sheets I sat on were fresh, sun-dried linen, a pretty shade of blue, and felt like air against my skin. I felt positively grimy in my bloodstained jacket and dirt-encrusted clothes in general.

Gregory-the sleepy boy-watched my face with a quizzical but unnerving air. I wondered if he was blind or something, because he didn't seem bothered at all by the brilliant white ceiling lights. When he saw me looking at him apprehensively, he said, "So where are you from?"

"Henry." Mack the Jewish kid touched his arm uneasily. "She just woke up. Don't be so pushy. Geez, aren't you supposed to be the laid-back one here?"

"No, that's your job. I'm a sadist and I'm proud." Henry smiled in a very creepy way. Then his expression became blank again and he shrugged. "Suit yourself. But Shirogane-sama is going to ask the same thing anyway, and I bet the Headmaster will too."

"Shhh!" Mack said in a harsh whisper. "Don't talk about the Headmaster, not even like that." He looked at the walls uneasily, like he expected them to grow ears or something.

Just then I heard yelling outside the room.

"You stole my strawberry Pocky sticks!" someone yelled.

"No baka, those were MY snacks. YOU were the one who took three chocolate pandas without asking!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

There came some more noises that sounded suspiciously like punching. I looked at Mack in alarm, but he just smiled.

"That's Benjamin and Alec," he explained, checking the machine next to me. "They're always fighting. I guess it's about snacks this time." He motioned at Gregory, who was doing a handstand on the flat-screen TV. "Greg, could you break it up? They're gonna disturb everyone in the East Wing."

"Can do!" Gregory chirped, and bounced out the door. Mack and I heard him say something, and the yelling suddenly stopped. Moments later, two sullen-looking teens skulked into the room. I was shocked to see the redhead from before, but he didn't seem to recognize me. The other person was an athletic but childish-looking guy who was mournfully sucking on a coconut macaroon. Both of them were clearly annoyed at each other, but there was also something deeper in their eyes-a fear that made me wonder what Gregory had said to them. At this Saint Augustine Academy, I was starting to feel there were a lot of dark secrets.

The macaroon-eating one saw me and asked, "Who's the girl? She's pretty!"

"We don't know," Henry said. "I guess we'll have to wait for Shirogane-sama to find that out. And please stay away from me Ben. I'm allergic to that stuff."

"Oops! Sorry!" Benjamin grinned sheepishly and swallowed the whole macaroon in one gulp. He looked at me again with pity. "Well Gregory told me you guys found her getting raped on the town courts by that bastard Jun something-or-the-other-"

"Not raped," Mack interjected quickly as I turned scarlet.

"Sexually harassed?" Henry offered from his couch.

"Yes." Benjamin looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes widened. "Well, can you at least tell us your name?" he asked me. "We can get you help or something. Do you live in the woods around here or something? Your parents must be worried! I know mine-"

"That's fine, Ben," Mark said quickly. "A name is perfect."

"I'm…" I opened my mouth, but my voice trailed off. I racked my brain in confusion. My name. What was my name? Sa- no, that wasn't right. _What was it? _The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. The pounding feeling came back to my head and my throat contracted with panic.

"What's the matter?" Gregory asked in concern. "Can't you tell us your name?"

"I…don't know," I said, shaking my head. "I can't seem to remember. It's a haze, I'm not even sure how I got here." I fiddled with a scorched lock of auburn hair. "It's like I have…what's it called…amnesia!"

I couldn't have foreseen the reaction that shocked through the boys. Mark almost leaped away from my bed and darted over to Henry, whose bright purple eyes were wide. They started whispering furiously, doing funny motions with their hands. Mack just gaped, unaware of Gregory, Benjamin, and the redhead tugging at him furiously, asking what was going on.

I was considering getting up and asking Mark what had happened, but just then someone else did.

"What is this?" asked the same icy, bone-chilling voice from the tennis courts. "Stop this foolishness right now! Mack, explain this!"

The effect was like Medusa's stare: all the boys froze just as Jun had. Mack looked up and said in a shaky voice, "I'm very sorry Shirogane-sama. We were just talking-just discussing this girl. She-she doesn't know her name. She appears to have…amnesia." He said the last word not in hatred, but in apprehensiveness.

"Hm…" A strong hand turned me around, and I found myself staring at the strangest face I had ever seen. Shirogane-sama wasn't beautiful in the traditional sense, but you had look at him. He had alabaster face, leonine and slender, with intense sapphire eyes that were as hard as stone, and a shock of wavy, silver-obsidian hair. Round glasses did nothing to soften his ferocious look. I felt myself being examined down the tiniest particle of my mind. Not that there was much there right now.

"So you're that one," he said. "The Headmaster told me about you. I guess the others haven't heard the whole story yet." Shirogane-sama's voice was smooth now. "You apparently do have amnesia, and I presume you were from that horrible train wreck a few miles away?"

"I-I think so."

"Well, do you recall anything about your parents, or relatives?"

I shook my head.

"Would you like to stay at St. Augustine Academy?"

The boys' voices rose in a chorus of surprise.

"She just got here, what are you talking about?" yelped Gregory. "St Augustine is for-"

"Hush." Shirogane-sama said. "It's what the Headmaster offered." Opposition ceased. He turned back towards me with those intense blue eyes. "Well?"

"Uh…sure," I said. This was a crazy turn of events, but I decided to go along with it. There didn't seem to be any other option for me, what with my loss of memory, and I didn't dare dream of disobeying Shirogane-sama. Something about his words-particularly "The Headmaster"-made me think I was expected to stay.

"Good. Then it's settled." Shirogane-sama gestured towards an almost-bursting-with-excitement Gregory and the sulky redhead. "Gregory, Bennett. Take this girl to the Saffron Dorm. I've arranged for Hazel to pick her up. The rest of you are dismissed. Remember, practice is at seven a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. If you are late, the punishment is sixteen laps around the town." He gave orders like the captain of a ship. Without another word, my mysterious rescuer/kidnapper? Left the room.

"Come on," the redhead named Bennett grumbled. He and Gregory hoisted me out of the hospital bed and placed my feet on the cool tiles. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think I'm fine."

"A concussion is _not _fine," Bennett said under his breath, but Gregory had already started dragging me at full speed down the long hall.

"That's a Renoir painting," he said excitedly, pointing at a bright pastel picture of a girl staring down into the depths of a sparkling river. "It's on loan from the Musee d'Orsay in France. Bennett's dad is one of the curators there…" Doors were flashing by us at an alarming rate, and I was surprised that I was easily keeping up with Gregory, who was bounding down the hall in great seven-foot long leaps. He looked surprised too, but didn't say anything.

We finally reached Saffron Dorm, which was painted a cheerful butter yellow like the rest of St. Augustine. In the softly lit arched brick doorway, a pretty brunette was waiting. The warm air blew back strands of her milky brown hair, framing her feminine but rather calculating face.

"Hey," she said, when we were within earshot. "You can go now Gregory. I'll take care of her from here on." She gave me a faint smile. "You must be tired. I'll show you to your room and tomorrow we can get you properly settled in." She pushed me into the dorm and yelled over her shoulder," Greg, get out of here before Madame DeMallie calls security. You're in violation of the 15-foot border." The door swung shut behind us.

As she ushered me up a flight of honey-colored stairs, she introduced herself.

"My name's Hazel. Hazel Morris. My dad's an ambassador from Europe, and he's got like six illegitimate children all over the globe. I'm the third. My mom's a bartender somewhere in Vegas."

"Oh."

"What's your name?"

"I don't know."

"Well, that's a problem." Hazel didn't seem nearly as bothered as Mack and Henry were. We reached an empty corridor lined with pale green doors. She placed a plastic card strung around her desk on room 405. A green light flashed, sort of like a hotel room, and the door swung open. "This is your room," Hazel explained. "I'm sorry, but there's no one else on this floor. This is only temporary by the way. Tomorrow, like I said, the Headmaster will probably call you. Stay in here until someone comes to get you, okay?" She held my shoulder seriously.

"Okay."

"Well then, I'm off!" Hazel patted my head and gave me a wink. "I've gotta study for my humongous Latin exam tomorrow. Just remember what I said, and you should be fine." She ran down the staircase again, her leather shoes making a soft thump-thump on the smooth wood.

I watched Hazel until she left. Six half-siblings. Who had that? St. Augustine Academy was so weird. So was this "temporary room". It was fit for a king, with a huge white bed draped with silk sheets. There were no windows, but there were beautiful, expensive-looking paintings, a flat-screen TV, and even a real piano. The bathroom was marble, chrome, and gold with lots of fluffy white towels embroidered with yellow and purple letters that spelled out S.A.A.

I took a bath, and it felt so nice to scrape all that grime and blood off my skin. The hot water was heaven. Afterwards I pulled on a nightgown that had been thoughtfully laid on the bed and pulled the covers over my head. The blanket and eiderdown pillows smelled comforting.

Sleep came easily, sweet and untroubled. As I was drifting off to sleep, I thought a little about my past. There wasn't anything much I could remember clearly, not from before Mark giving that bowl of delicious ramen. But I had the faintest impression of a black-haired boy with golden eyes, like a cat's, and a white cap. Then came a group of grinning boys, dressed in blue and white sports clothes, and waving those paddle things and neon green balls.

The image blurred and became dark, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Welcome to Saint Augustine Academy!

**I don't want to come off as a whiny bitch or anything, but perhaps you have seen a recent Ryosaku fic by the name of **_**The Princess of Kansai University. **_**Yeah. WELL GUESS WHAT? THE WHOLE FRICKIN FIRST CHAPTER, AND A PART OF THE SECOND WERE COPIED FROM THIS STORY. AS IN, WORD FOR WORD! Jesus, I know it's a free country, but I thought it was just basic etiquette on this sight for people to not plagiarize. If the author had asked to use part of my text, then fine, but she didn't, and there's something extremely aggravating about watching people get nice reviews from something that they didn't write. Particularly when that something is yours. It's a really harsh blow not just to your pride, but also your will to write.**

** I'm sorry if this came off as immature, but that's just how I feel.**

**Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form, in possession of ANY part of POT. **

**New Characters Name List, and the Seigaku regulars they resemble:**

**Shirogane – Tezuka, and to some extent, Ryoma**

**Gregory – Kikumaru**

**Mark – Inui**

**Henry – Fuji**

**Mack – Oishi**

**Benjamin – Momoshiro**

**Alec – Kaidoh**

**Hazel – Tomoka, if she was mellow and unflappable and…what the hell, Hazel's just a random character I came up with. Six illegitimate siblings, LOLs**

**And now, on with the story!**

_Soft._

That was the first thought that came to mind. Everything was so soft. The sheets covering my body felt as smooth and cool as air.

Groaning softly, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Unfortunately, despite the warm rays of sunlight soaking through the curtains, sleep still hung heavy in the air. It took a good ten minutes to haul myself into a semi-vertical position and begin to assess where I was.

_Damn, this is a nice room. _Almost unbidden, the events of last night rushed through my head in a whirlwind of colors and voices: Jun trying to rape me, blacking out, meeting Shirogane-sama and Mark and the rest of the guys…trying to make sense of it all was too confusing, so I focused on the one thing I was sure happened.

"Stay in here until someone comes to get you," Hazel had said.

Okay, simple enough. But when was that?

Thinking didn't seem to be getting me anywhere, what with my sleepy, stupefied state, so I decided to freshen up before the Headmaster – was that what Hazel had called him? – came to get me. Seeing as I would be staying at this Saint Augustine Academy for a while, I should try to make a good first impression. You don't get too many of those in life, after all.

First, I went into the bathroom connected to my hotel-like bedroom. Like everything else around me, it was luxurious: marble and granite counter, gleaming silver sink, pristine bathtub and shower…even the toilet looked high-class, though it wasn't plated in gold.

I had the odd feeling it was platinum.

_Just go with it, _I told myself. So I grabbed a fluffy white towel from under the sink, wet it, and scrubbed the last bits of stubborn grime from my face. When I finished, my face looked pink but clean. Then I took the comb that had been artfully propped next to a vase of chrysanthemums and dragged it through my charred, uneven hair. This didn't produce such a good result. Chunks of black crumbled onto my shoulders and got all over the floor. It took a good half-hour to clean up, both the tile floor and myself.

I'd just dumped the last bits of burnt hair into a trashcan when the doorbell chimed. Wait – since when did dorm rooms have doorbells? Oh, right, since Saint Augustine Academy. These kids were probably the kind who had multi-billionaire parents, private vacation islands, and enough weekly allowance to keep a family of four going for three months. Trying not to roll my eyes at the extravagance of my newfound caretakers, I answered the door.

Standing at the threshold, polished black dress shoes not quite crossing the surface, was the silver-haired boy from last night, the one Gregory and Mark had called Shirogane-sama. Despite my best attempts to remain poker-faced, my mouth opened slightly. His features were really just too striking. That didn't stop him from looking any less intimidating as he stared down at me with those sapphire eyes, as cold and hard as the stone itself.

"Um…hello?" I said meekly.

"This is your uniform," Shirogane-sama replied, tossing a bulky plastic package into my arms. Guess he wasn't one to mince with formalities. "You have ten minutes to change. The Headmaster isn't a patient person, so…" he cast a skeptical eye over my choppy, uneven hair and disheveled nightgown. Suddenly, my face felt as hot as coals.

"I – I understand. I'll be ready. Should I meet you at, at the front door?"

Shirogane-sama's response was to give a curt nod before shutting the door in my face.

As soon as I was sure he was out of earshot, I began ripping open the package. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I just open the door without changing out of my pjs first? He probably thinks I'm even lower class than before… _all thoughts disappeared as I saw the clothes that rolled out onto the floor. There were four sets. All consisted of a dark violet-silk blazer worn over a crisp white button-down shirt, topped of with a sleek, thin black tie. I let out a low whistle as I ran my fingers over the smooth, glistening fabric, marveling at the delicate silver buttons and chains that had been artfully sewn in.

Next, my gaze fell to the bottom half. Surprisingly, it wasn't the usual Japanese schoolgirl skirt. Instead, four pairs of crisp black dress pants draped themselves over my legs. It made me wonder if Shirogane-sama had gotten my, er, gender, wrong. I don't see how he could have, but…oh what they heck, Europeans probably do things differently. Right, they're big on gender equality – that's probably why.

_But Hazel was wearing a skirt yesterday, _a nagging voice in the back of my mind said.

I promptly squashed it with a metaphorical mental pillow.

I got dressed quickly and raced down the stairs three steps at a time. Shirogane-sama was waiting impassively by the main door when I caught up to him, red-faced and panting.

"Let's go," he said coldly, and turning and walking away.

Well, what a gentleman.

Deciding that beggars couldn't be choosers, and I was definitely a beggar, what with my supposed "amnesia" and all, I followed him without complaint. We passed by several areas that I remembered from my journey with Hazel the night before, but in the sunlight of morning, the full magnificence of Saint Augustine Academy finally struck me in the face. It really was like a fairy tale castle. Tall, pale yellow spires with slate roofs rose into the cloudless blue sky; the ground beneath our feet was cobblestoned; everywhere blooms of fragrant flowers lent their sweet innocence to the venerable stone buildings. The utter silence between Shirogane-sama and I faded away as I drank in the splendor around me. I was so wrapped up in admiring a particularly beautiful stained glass window when I suddenly bumped into Shirogane-sama's back.

"Oh, oh sorry!" I squeaked, shrinking under the dark gaze he threw back at me.

He just sighed. "Watch where you're going. We are meeting the Headmaster now, and I think it's best if you avoid doing anything stupid in his presence."

For some reason, I kind of giggled at that. Shirogane-sama gave me another sharp look.

"What?" he asked somewhat irritably.

I tried to mask my smile. "Nothing. I just thought that you're actually a pretty nice guy. Giving me advice, and stuff."

A pause. Then: "You thought wrong."

Before I had time to react to that strange statement, he motioned to the building we'd stopped at. Even among the fairy-tale structures surrounding it, this one stood out. Its walls were pure granite, and the main doors were made of gleaming chrome and glass so clear I couldn't even see any reflections in it. Shirogane-sama whipped out a plastic card, slashed it through a device attached to the wall, and the double doors slid open with a silent whoosh.

"Go inside. The Headmaster's office is the second door to your right," he said, his voice frigid as ever.

I almost didn't hear him. The sweet scent that wafted out the building interior was intoxicating: it smelled like fresh rain, like lemons and ripe peaches and red strawberries and apples and cinnamon. It made the blood in my veins thrum a little quicker with electricity. When I finally came to my senses and turned around to thank Shirogane-sama (just because _he _didn't have manners didn't mean I had to forget my own – no pun intended), he had disappeared. Not like, walking away into the distance, but the air around me was completely still, as if he'd never been there.

_Odd, _I thought to myself, but pushed it out of my mind. The tactless guy was the least of my current issues. Smoothing the front of my new uniform, which fit like a glove, I took stock of my new surroundings. I saw the door Shirogane-sama had described (it had a big plaque reading HEADMASTER, after all) and breathed a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn't be wandering around awkwardly. Grasping the heavy silver doorknocker, I let it fall with a loud _clunk. _

"Come in," a faint voice said.

So I did.

The Headmaster's office was…nice. It was circular and had windows covering every wall that wasn't near the door. The floor was polished hardwood, and everything seemed neat and dignified, from the towering bookcases stuffed with tomes to the aquarium of exotic fish curiously tucked into a dusty corner. It looked, as I'd expected, like something straight out of a stereotypical, posh British boarding school **cough cough Dumbledore's office cough cough**

But there was something else as well. It was like the air, so sleepy and relaxed before, had suddenly tensed into a rigid military formation. I wasn't sure I liked it.

"Are you the uh, Headmaster?" I nervously asked the person sitting in the giant office chair in the center of the room. He was swiveled towards window, so I couldn't see his face.

"Yes, I am." The voice came out high and clear, piercing my ears and making me straighten immediately. "And _you _are the amnesiac little girl who so opportunely washed up on my doorstep."

_I'm not some fucking possession of yours. _On the surface though, I simply bowed, saying, "Thank you for allowing me to stay here at your wonderful school. It truly is amazing."

As I straightened up, I heard rustling noises, and suddenly the Headmaster was standing in front of me. He was thin and tall, with just a touch of gray accenting the tips of his dark black hair. I noticed with some surprise that his cobalt-blue eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Shirogane-sama's. Beautiful, cold, and harder than ice. But Shirogane-sama's had more light in them. Otherwise, the Headmaster looked fairly normal.

"Oh, wonderful!" he exclaimed after he'd finished a quick appraisal of me. "The uniform really suits you." Oookay, the sudden cheerfulness in his voice _was _strange. _No, wait; stop thinking that he might be a pedophile! Stop thinking that all guys are pedophiles and rapists! _"Now I'm supposed to give you a lot of blather about the glory of Saint Augustine and all that kerfuffle," the Headmaster continued, "But that's just a waste of time, isn't it. There's only two rules here: work hard, and don't kill anyone." He grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Not that you'll have to worry about the second one, eh?"

"I guess not," I said. _And nobody sane should, _I though privately. "So, um, as a student here, is there anything I should – "

The Headmaster cut me off. "Oh, don't worry about that. All of your living and tuition expenses will be covered. I dare say we have more than enough surplus funds. I actually wanted to discuss something else with you."

Even though Shirogane-sama had said the same thing last night, my eyes fairly popped out of my head. I'd expected to be a scholarship student or something of the like, but this was beyond belief, this generosity. The Headmaster was basically offering someone with no past like me to enter into an elite world.

"Are, are you sure?" I stammered. "I mean, thank you very much, I just didn't expect-"

"Oh I didn't say it was for free."

Gulp.

"What – what's the condition?"

The catlike grin stretched wider than ever, glowing almost maliciously in the shadows cast by teakwood furniture.

"You have to join Saint Augustine Academy's male tennis team."

**haHA! I finally finished it! In less than two hours! All that pent up energy after finals was the inspiration I guess…does that even make sense? Never mind.**

**This chapter was quite long a bit lacking in action, as you may have noticed, but I needed to set up the characters that Sakuno will be associating with for the rest of the story. And next chapter will be awesome-sauce cause Sakuno is FINALLY MEETING UP WITH THE SEIGAKU REGULARS (and Ryoma)! *****squeals in excitement*, so review review review if you want to see it up soon. **


	8. It's Fate

**Author's Note: Okay, so now time has sped up a bit; it's been two years since Sakuno left Seigaku, so she and Ryoma are about sixteen. In this span of time, Sakuno – who is now known as Tenshi Nakahara– has been fully enveloped in Saint Augustine Academy's "dark side". She's undergone some drastic transformations, as you'll soon see. **

**Curious for more? Then read on.**

"Ne, Ochibi, you excited?"

Ryoma resisted the urge to dump his half-finished can of Ponta down Kikumaru Eiji's shirt. For two reasons: 1) it would have been a waste of a perfectly good drink and 2) …he'd get back to the readers on that. (Me: Really? Not cool. Ryoma: Hn.)

"I'm sleeping, senpai," he chose to sigh, pulling down the visor of his white cap.

"But if you really were, then you wouldn't be talking to us, now would you?" Fuji said, smiling serenely.

"Whatever."

Momo-senpai laughed loudly and clapped Ryoma on the back, causing the raven-haired tennis prodigy to almost choke on his Ponta. "Come on Echizen, even _you _have to at least a little excited for this."

Ryoma didn't respond, only curling up further in his bus seat and resting his head against his tennis bag. It was true. Despite his attempts to remain nonchalant and blasé as per usual, Ryoma had been secretly counting the days until the Seishun regulars' team would go to the finals. It would be his first year since eighth grade playing in a competition of such scale – and a chance to play a decent challenging match against someone who was not his perverted old oyaji.

The bus jolted over a pothole as it rumbled along the long, straight road that led towards the Nationals' training grounds: a remote but apparently state-of-the-art facility at the base of the Kikyo mountains. He vaguely remembered Inui-senpai mentioning that it belonged to one of the participant schools. Ryoma wasn't particularly worried though; a victory was a victory in tennis, and it didn't matter how rich you were, Ryoma Echizen would still whoop your ass if you challenged him on the court.

The rocking of the bus, combined with the soft warmth of sunlight being absorbed by his sports jacket, was lulling Ryoma into another quick nap…but unfortunately his teammates were still bursting with energy.

"Nyah, look, I can see the mountain!" Eiji-senpai yelled loudly.

"No, that's a soccer stadium," Oishi said. *Insert sweat drop here* The calm half of Seigaku's golden pair squinted out the window. "It's a pretty big one, in fact. Guess this Saint Augustine Academy really is rich."

"Inui, does it have any connection to Saint Rudolph's?" Fuji murmured sleepily from the back of the bus.

Inui shook his head and frowned. "No, in fact I haven't been able to get much information on it at all. All I know is that it's an elite European-style school, and its students in recent years have been popping up in very competitive academic and athletic events. This is its first year participating in the Nationals', though." He swiveled his head to look at Ryoma, who was slouched down in his seat and had buried his head under his tennis bag in attempt to drown out the voices.

"Echizen, if you fall asleep like that, you'll get a back and neck cramp."

"Mada mada dane."

"Echizen, sit up or you'll run 50 laps around the tennis court," Tezuka barked, not looking up from the textbook he was studying from.

Ryoma sat up.

Tomoka hummed to herself as she turned the handle of the spigot, watching as ice-cold water splashed down into the water container. When it was three-quarters full, she shut off the water and grabbed some ice from a trough nearby. She shoveled two scoopfuls of it in, and then pressed the red cap firmly into place.

It was sweltering hot, even though it was only April and they were high up on a mountain. Tomoka had volunteered to go by herself and refill a water tank while the Seigaku trio and regulars had gone to unpack; Ryuzaki-sensei was off somewhere registering them. Now the self-proclaimed cheerleader of the school tennis team was regretting her choice. The tank was heavy and slippery, water dripping down its sides in rivulets as the cold plastic came into contact with the humid mist.

"I wish I'd brought someone to help," she sighed. _Back then, Sakuno and I would do this stuff together, _Tomoka added silently. As always, the taboo memory dropped a heavy weight into her chest and knit her eyebrows together.

Tomoka had been the second to learn of the horrible train wreck that had…killed, _god how she hated that word, _Sakuno. Ryuzaki-sensei had called her up at 3 a.m. in the morning, her usually gruff voice strained and cracking with barely concealed grief.

At the funeral – there wasn't even a body to bury – Tomoka hadn't cried. It was only after she'd returned home, in the quiet calm of her own room, that the girl had finally broken down, releasing anguished, gasping sobs muffled by her pillow.

The loud _pok _of tennis balls striking clay courts startled Tomoka out of her reverie.

"Gah!" she gasped, looking at her watch. "The others will be waiting for me…oh man, which way am I supposed to go again?" She looked around in confusion. The Nationals' training grounds this year were incredibly large, over 1000 acres. Mentally, Tomoka tried to retrace her steps.

"Let's see, I left everyone near the main entrance, and then I passed the infirmary, and then there was that sidewalk near the fountain…"

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the bright green tennis ball speeding towards her from one of the nearby open courts…

_WHAM!_

Butterflies of every color exploded into Tomoka's vision as everything else went black. With a small gasp, she dropped to her knees on the brick ground, trying to remember how to breathe while the intense throbbing in her head threatened to render her unconscious. Once she was relatively sure she was still alive, her senses began picking up signals from her environment again.

"...llo? Hello? Can you hear me, miss?"

"Whuuu?"

"Guess that answered the question," a male voice said.

"Shut up Kirihara, you could have given her a concussion!" someone else o. "Damn, when will you learn to control your sadistic urges?"

"Well my therapist ran out on me when I walked into her office, I got arrested for glaring at a little brat who made me drop my ice cream, and my opponents are usually scared shitless of me, so uh, let's see...how about never?"

"Maybe we should focus on trying to revive her?" the original voice asked. It was low and lilting, very pleasant to listen to, and Tomoka couldn't tell if it was masculine or feminine.

There was no verbal opposition, and Tomoka felt light, cool hands quickly skimming across her forehead, resting on her pulse, trailing down her arms and legs and gently prodding the flesh. After a few moments, the person said, "She seems all right. I don't think she has a concussion; she just fell down but didn't hit her head."

Sighs of relief. Then: "So…what do we do with her?"

Someone, probably Kirihara, said, "Just leave her. She's not dying, is she? Let's finish our practice before our time runs out."

"Do you have no sense of morals?"

"I sold them all to the devil in exchange for tennis skills mwahaha."

"I'll take care of her," the voice of the person who'd checked Tomoka said. "You guys can go back and finish your matches. Just try not to give near-death experiences out to too many people, okay?" With that, Tomoka was lifted into the air princess-style and carried away from wherever she was.

As the resumed _pok pok pok _of tennis balls faded into the distance, Tomoka tried to focus on the questions her savior was asking.

"What's your name?"

"Tomo…Tomoka Osakada. From Seigaku," she slurred out confusedly. "They're staying at the…Ehrenborgh building, I think, but I don't know where that is."

The person carrying her didn't seem unduly worried. "Don't worry, I know where they are. Are you here to cheer on your school's team?"

"Hai, because they're all very good, there are three other guys who came to do the same as well." Tomoka felt a bit odd rambling on about such things with a stranger - who she couldn't even see because her eyelids still felt like lead – but for some reason she couldn't stop talking. "Especially Ryoma-sama, he's the best, you should watch him play, he's going to be the best in the world someday!" she finally burst out.

Her savior laughed. "He sounds like a pretty interesting person. Is he really so amazing?"

"Of course he is!" Tomoka replied indignantly. "Ryoma-sama is like a prince! All the girls in our school look up to him, even the older ones. Even our captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu, can't beat him if he's serious!"

"Ryoma-kun and Tezuka Kunimitsu, huh? I'll remember those names if I meet them, then." Tomoka felt her savior's strides suddenly stop. "It seems we've reached the Ehrenborgh building, Osakada-san. And everyone is waiting for you."

"Wow, Tomo-chan sure is late," Kintarou sighed.

Ryuzaki-sensei frowned and looked at her watch. "She's been gone for almost an hour. Maybe she got lost-"

"Ne, I see her!" Eiji said suddenly, jumping up from his seat on the fountain lip outside their lodging area. "Over there, coming out of the trees!"

All the regulars, Ryoma included, turned to look at the winding brick pathway leading from their dorm rooms to a distant training ground that was separated by a thick grove of trees. True enough, two figures were emerging. One seemed to be carrying the other, who was a pigtailed girl, apparently unconscious.

"My data confirms that the one being carried has a 94.67% likelihood of being Osakada-san," Inui said, furiously scribbling in his little blue notebook.

"We'll know soon enough," Fuji said, calm as usual. So all the Seigaku regulars, plus Ryuzaki-sensei and the trio, trained their eyes on the pair approaching the building.

But as their forms became clearer, one cat-eyed, raven-haired boy in particular stiffened. His attention shifted from the loud cheerleader the one carrying her. It couldn't be, of course not. Ryuzaki-sensei would have had no reason to lie about her granddaughter's death. Still, there was still a striking resemblance to that certain someone – in fact the only someone – whom he had not had a lick of contact with since graduating from Seigaku. As the figure approached, Ryoma's heart quickened, he leaned forward on the fountain, allowing the tiniest bit of hope to flare up in his chest, though he'd never admit it, he'd always hoped…

Holy shit.

It did look like her. From the sharp intakes of breath around him the others had realized it too.

"Sakuno-chan!" Horio suddenly screamed.

Cue dead silence with a tumbleweed rolling in the background.

"Uh, I'm not sure what you're talking about," the person said finally. "But Osakada-san got hit in the head by a tennis ball, so I brought her to you guys. You _are _from Seigaku, right?"

Tomoka felt herself being passed gently into someone's arms. Cracking her eyes open, she looked over her shoulder and saw a slim young boy taking off his white hood. Sunlight struck his auburn hair and sparkled in his deep cinnamon-brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you," he said, grinning. "My name is Tenshi Nakahara. I'm the Second of Saint Augustine Academy's tennis team."


	9. Just Who are You?

**Author's Note: Ahhh! The reviews! Their light blinds me! Thanks, though, everyone. Your words are the greatest encouragement and inspiration. *sniffs* Luv all of you, even though I don't know you.**

**Okay. That was random.**

**I'll get back to telling the story now.**

"Tenshi…Nakahara?"

Nobody knew who exactly repeated the name. But that didn't matter very much to one cat-eyed tennis player at the moment.

Ryoma stared at Sakuno – ahem, the boy in the white hoodie – with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He _looked…_like _her_. There were differences, of course. This person's hair was cropped into tufty locks that made it look like he'd just rolled out of bed; his skin was a shade lighter and more sickly; his physique much more lithe and poised.

Definitely not Wobbly Hips.

After a pregnant silence, the boy cleared his throat. "Um, so the infirmary's just around the corner from here. There are signs, should be pretty easy to find-"

"Ryuzaki."

All of the regulars' heads snapped towards Ryoma, who was still in his half-leaning-forward, half dozing off position on the fountain lip. The tennis prodigy ignored their looks and pulled his white cap lower over his face. "Sakuno Ryuzaki."

The boy cocked his head to the side in what appeared to be a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.

"Sakuno…isn't that what your friend called me a minute ago? Do I look like her?" he asked.

"No! That, er…" This time, it was the responsible, trying-to-smooth-things-over Oishi speaking. Or rather, try to. After all, how did one explain to a stranger why they were being compared to someone who was long dead, and of the opposite gender at that?

The boy laughed. "It's alright. I know I look kind of like a girl."

"That's not what he-" Oishi began.

Tenshi Nakahara waved it off. "Seriously, don't worry about it. I'd worry more about Osakada-san. She got whacked pretty hard by that tennis ball."

"I'm okay," Tomoka said suddenly, staggering upright while clutching onto Fuji's arm. "Th-thank you Nakahara-san. I feel a lot better now."

"That's great!" And then Tenshi smiled.

Horio screamed again. Eiji let out a yelp, jumped backwards, and tripped over the fountain to land in the water with a splash. Less dramatically, Ryoma turned to stone.

_That face, how can it not be hers? _He wondered silently. The ditzy, naive smile, the bell-like laugh…was God trying to screw with him? He snuck another look at the Nakahara boy, who was apologetically helping a sopping wet Eiji up.

_It's a GUY, but he looks like __**her, **__goddamit! I should apologize for __**that time, **__but in all likelihood it's not her and he'd just freak out if I said it. Did Sakuno have a brother or something? _Ryoma was so wrapped up in his own jumbled thoughts that he just caught the end of one of the boy's questions.

"…the captain of the Seigaku tennis team?" Tenshi was asking Oishi-senpai.

Oishi shook his head. "That's buchou over there," he said, pointing to a stoic Tezuka leaning against the side of the building, who gave a curt nod before resuming his staring match with a nearby tree (poor little thing – the tree, not Tezuka!)

"And that's Kaidoh, and Momoshiro. Over there's my doubles partner Eiji Kikumaru, and here's Fuji…" Oishi pointed to each of the regulars in turn. Then he introduced the Seigaku trio, and there was an awkward five minutes where Horio apologized profusely for, well, being Horio.

Finally, Oishi said, "You've already met Osakada, so that leaves…" His eyes trailed to Ryoma, who by now was busily studying an ant crawling by his shoe.

"Echizen, introduce yourself," Tezuka said sternly.

"Hn."

In truth, Ryoma didn't trust himself to look up. He didn't trust himself not to say Sakuno's name and spill out all his regrets that he'd bottled up since her death. He didn't-

"So you're Ryoma-kun."

Again, that familiar pang stabbed right through him, clenching his chest muscles painfully. Looking up, Ryoma saw that the boy was smiling brilliantly at him.

_Just like her._

"Osakada-san was talking about you. She said you're quite good."

"Hn."

"I guess that's a yes?" Tenshi asked. "You and I will probably play each other soon then. I'll look forward to it."

"You're participating in the Nationals?" Inui said in surprise.

"Yeah, I said I was my tennis team's Second, right?"

"Second?" Momoshiro asked confusedly. "Like, second helpings?"

"Um, not really."

"Fsh…dumbass," Kaidoh hissed.

"What'd you just say, Mamushi?"

The regulars sweatdropped as Seigaku's Dunk Smash and Snake players started a rather loud, _colorful, _argument. Tezuka finally managed to subdue them with his classic "50 laps" threat, and order was restored.

"So, as I was saying," Tenshi continued, apparently unfazed, "Saint Augustine's tennis team has eight players on it, me included. There aren't any backups. We have tryouts at the beginning of the season, and get ranked based on those results. I came in second, so that's why I'm called the Second." He looked over at Oishi. "It's kind of like being vice-captain, I guess."

"Nyah, you must be pretty good!" Eiji exclaimed. "How old are you?"

"About sixteen."

_Sakuno would have been sixteen by now, too, _was the unspoken thought that ran through the Seigaku students' minds.

"We-well, then you're Ochibi's age!" Momoshiro said boisterously after a tense second. He grabbed Ryoma in a headlock and gave him a noogie (just imagine Ryoma's face right now…mwahaha I'm such a sadist). "Maybe you can finally make this brat get a life outside of tennis then!"

"Baka Momo-senpai," Ryoma muttered, extricating himself from his upperclassman's chokehold. Turning back to Tenshi, he said, "You said you wanted a match? Where are the courts?"

Tenshi raised an eyebrow. "Now? Don't you want to settle in first?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "If I stay any longer with these idiots, I'll probably get disqualified from the competition for murder."

Tenshi grinned. "Okay then, follow me, I-"

"_TENSHI NAKAHARA!_"

Everyone jumped six feet into the air.

"Oops," Tenshi said ruefully, peering down the long brick road. "Looks like they found me."

"Found who-" Momo began, before something blazed past him, knocking him to the ground. The Dunk Smash player sat up, head spinning, and groaned. "What the hell was-"

"Aniki."

All eyes turned to Tenshi, who at present was enveloped in the arms of a much taller male. As they broke apart, the Seigaku regulars' eyes became as wide as saucers.

The man standing next to the petite boy was at least six feet tall. His skin was pure white, like Tenshi's, only he gave off the aura of being made of marble. His hair was a shocking mass of wavy silver locks that seemed to ripple in the sunlight; his eyes were like cut sapphires. (Guess who)

"This, everyone," Tenshi said, "is my brother, Shirogane Nakahara. Otherwise known as Saint Augustine's first-ranked tennis player."

The intimidating tennis player sighed exasperatedly. "Tenshi, _how _many times do I have to tell you not to wander off by yourself? You're still recuperating; Dr. Edelweiss said any excessive physical strain could-" He was cut off by a small hand against his mouth.

"_Aniki,_" Tenshi said calmly. "I was helping Osakada-san, who got hit in the head by a tennis ball. I only brought her to her school team. It's not like that time I lifted the bus out of a ditch, or anything."

Everyone around the odd, mismatched pair sweatdropped.

At last, Shirogane shifted his gaze to the Seigaku regulars. "Are you one of the schools participating in the Nationals tournament?" he asked coldly.

Before Eiji or Momoshiro could say anything *stupid*, Tezuka stepped forward.

"We are from Seigaku," he said, extending a hand. "We look forward to a good competition this year."

At the mention of Seigaku's name, Shirogane stiffened noticeably. Still, he shook Tezuka's hand with a blank face. "I hope you have a pleasant stay. Please don't hesitate to use any of the facilities here. However..." He shot a sharp glance at Tenshi. "…I would appreciate it if none of your players challenged my little brother to a match. He is still recovering from a recent illness, and cannot overexert himself before the tournament begins."

Tenshi pouted. "Mou, aniki, but I was going to have a match with Ryoma-kun. Can't I just this one time-"

"No."

"_Pleeease?_"

Shirogane simply grabbed the younger boy by his sweater's collar and dragged him away.

"Bye Osakada-san! Bye senpai-tachis! Bye Ryoma-kun! I'll try to sneak off so we can have our match – mmrphgh, aniki, you didn't have to suffocate me!" Tenshi called before vanishing into the distance.

"See you later…Nakahara-kun?" Tomoka said uncertainly. Her head was still reeling with the sudden string of events.

"We should start unpacking," Tezuka said. "Inui, what time does dinner start?"

"The dining hall opens at 7:45 p.m. That gives us about…two hours and thirty three minutes, give or take thirty seconds."

"All right then. Everyone, to your rooms!"

"Mou, but Tenshi-kun really does look like Sakuno-chan, doesn't he?" Eiji whispered none-to-softly as the regulars crowded into the elevator (yes, the dorm rooms at Saint Augustine Academy have elevators – this is a fanfic of a manga series, after all).

"I wonder if she got a gender change or something…OI MAMUSHI! What was that pfft for?" Momoshiro yelled.

Ignoring his senpais' loud impromptu argument, Ryoma turned to Inui, who was busily scribbling data into his book.

"Inui-senpai."

"Yes, Echizen?"

"What do you know about that kid? Tenshi Nakahara."

The data collector's brows furrowed and he bit his lip thoughtfully. "That's exactly my problem. I can't seem to find the records of any of Saint Augustine's tennis team members.

Fuji, who had remained quiet throughout it all, suddenly spoke. "You mean there's nothing on their history at all?"

Inui shook his head. "Virtually none. I don't even know the names of the other players we'll be facing from their team. It's like they haven't existed until now."

A heavy silence settled over the elevator.

It was the tensai that finally broke the silence. "Well, we'll find out who they are soon enough."

The statement was seemingly directed at everyone, but Fuji's sharp blue eyes were focused on a particular young tennis prodigy, whom was absentmindedly staring into the depths of his empty Ponta can.

_Just who are you, Tenshi Nakahara? _Ryoma wondered.

**Wow. This chapter was surprisingly hard to write. I hope the amount of conversation wasn't too much. After this though, things are going to start heating up, and you'll see Sakuno doing some pretty awesome moves soon. So review! **


	10. Doppelganger

**Sorry for the late updates everyone! I've been, er, **_**distracted **_**by some really excellent PoT fanfics lately. They're really really really good. So to make up for it, I'll make this chapter extra long. *Smiles nervously* Y'all understand, right?**

** A couple more meaningless things that I'm going to ramble on about:**

**Crap! I forgot to put the disclaimer on the last few chapters! Well, I'm too lazy to go back and fix everything, so, for any copyright lawyers: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its legally affiliated entities. I just own this plot and all original characters introduced within the story.**

**Thank you for all the reviews (free virtual hug!) everyone. I haven't had the time to reply to all of them, but rest assured, all are adored. It's funny actually; a couple of you said that you found Tenshi and Shirogane amusing. 0_0 I was like, **_**WHAT?**_** I get the Tenshi part – who doesn't love to see a less-doormat-like Sakuno? But Shirogane, heh, let's just say he'll be a bit scarier from this chapter on. Imagine Tezuka-buchou in Super-Stoic mode. Then times that by 100. Add a pinch of Kirihara-esque madness, and put in a pressure cooker for 3 pages.**

**You get the idea.**

**This has nothing to do with **_**THE PRINCESS OF TENNIS, **_**but read Rising Ambitions by coffeelatte! It's YukimuraxOC, and to be honest, it's awesome sauce. It's one of the few OC fics that I absolutely adore, so, yeah, READ IT.**

**There's another (fucking hilarious) trilogy I love on this site – The Harassment of Buchou – but it's rated M, so I can't exactly advertise it in a T-rated story…(suddenly realizes that's exactly what she's doing). Face palms self. **

**Now I will stop spouting meaningless nonsense.**

**Disclaimer: see above**

_**Doppelganger**_

_Flashback_

_ A world of pain. She could feel it running through the blood that flowed like fire through her veins. It was buried deep into her bone marrow as well; in fact it was everywhere. As she sucked in a shaky breath, she felt the world spin around once before sharpening into focus._

_ The room she was in was large, white, and sterile. It looked like some sort of hospital, with a variety of strange beeping machines arranged all around. She tried to push herself up into a sitting position for a better look. Unfortunately, the effort sent a sharp pain shooting through her left elbow, and with a short cry she sank back into the pillow, a cold sweat breaking across her brow._

Where am I Who am I What the hell is going on here?_ were the thoughts that flashed through her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. What series of events led her to be lying down in a hospital bed in a strange room with dozens of tubes, wires, and leather ropes all over her- wait a minute, leather ropes?_

_The girl blinked. Indeed, belt-like leather straps were tightened uncomfortably around her wrists, triceps, ankles, and knees. Strange. What could they be for?_

_While she was still trying to rationalize everything, a man watched with greedy, gleaming eyes through a camera hanging from the center of the hospital room._

"…_how do you like this one?" asked the spectacled man behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, which was disheveled from many days and nights without sleep._

_The man with greedy eyes was silent for a moment, his attention riveted on the young girl with an innocently puzzled expression on her face. A shaking white hand reached out to trace her image on the computer monitor in front of him._

_ At last, he said: "What can she do?"_

_ There was an audible sigh of relief behind him. "Her rate of development will be faster than the…first one," the bespectacled man said. "Adaptability should be roughly equivalent as well. As for her personality, well, you would know that best."_

_ "Hm."_

_ "May I ask what you plan to call her?"_

_ A slow smile spread across the other man's lips. He tapped the monitor lightly, where the girl had apparently lapsed into unconsciousness again. Short, auburn locks were splayed out across the pure white sheets, and her face held an expression of sweet, untroubled sleep._

_ "Ikatani, no, it's Dr. Edelweiss now, isn't it?" the man with greedy eyes said. "What's the Japanese word for angel?"_

_ Confusion clouded the bespectacled man's gray eyes._

_ "Angel, Headmaster? I believe that's Tenshi."_

_ The greedy-eyed man suddenly stood up and strode towards the door rather calmly._

_ "Well then, I think I need to congratulate young Mr. Tenshi Nakahara for being the newest student at Saint Augustine Academy._

_ End Flashback_

Present Day

Echizen Ryoma was not easily impressed.

Well, as the so-called "Samurai prince" poised to take over the world tennis stage, that was understandable. Still, even _he _had enough sense to widen his eyes at the map of this year's Nationals training grounds.

"Thirty clay, grass, and asphalt courts total. There are also six infirmaries, two gyms, sixty-five walls for solitary practice, and a tennis library with a multimedia center," Inui recited from his green data book. "That's not including what's in the living areas and all the things they have in the sheds."

"Saa, I wonder if this school is richer than Hyotei," Fuji remarked as he peered into one of Seigaku's coolers, undoubtedly searching for Inui's latest (torturous) concoction.

A mental image of a hopping mad Atobe Keigo popped into each regular's mind; only Tezuka (surprise surprise) was able to suppress a snort.

"Nyah, we should get going then!" Kikumaru said loudly. "Oishi, come on, I want to explore!"

"Eiji…" Seigaku's mother hen sweatdropped. "…Let's eat breakfast first."

"Yes, yes, breakfast!" Momoshiro punched the air. "Hey Echizen, last one to the cafeteria has to treat the other to a dessert!"

"No way," Ryoma yawned. "I want Ponta."

Fuji's mop of brown hair suddenly popped up from behind a cooler. "If it's Ponta you're looking for Echizen, it seems Inui's whipped up something quite similar." The tensai licked his lips and smiled eerily. "It tastes delightful. Want to try?" He held up a smoking beaker of something licorice black, bubbling, and definitely _not _Ponta.

Everyone else blanched at the prospect of drinking another one of Inui's "Penal-Teas." As a result, Seigaku made the 30-minute sprint to Saint Augustine's Dining Hall in record time.

::::: Line Break :::::

Echizen Ryoma did not make it his business to listen to loud, freakishly energetic fangirls with brown pigtails. Cough, cough, the Osakada girl. For five years, Ryoma tolerated her incessant screams of "RYOMA-SAMA!" that followed him to class, tennis practice, and competitions. At this point, he'd become quite adept at tuning out her megaphone-loud voice. Still, that didn't stop him from hearing:

"Hey, isn't that Nakahara-kun?"

Involuntarily, his head snapped up and he followed the Osakada girl's gaze to see a familiar mop of tousled auburn hair by the salad bar. Ryoma clenched his jaw as Miss Loudmouth-Pigtails waved and called out noisily to get the boy's attention.

His body froze when the boy turned around, eyes lighting up with recognition, and waved back.

After saying something to a bespectacled doctor-like man beside him, Tenshi Nakahara began walking towards them, a big smile on his face.

Sakuno's face.

Ryoma shook his head. He wondered why the klutzy braided girl kept creeping into his mind so often, right when he needed to concentrate on tennis most, of all times! Well, that was Ryuzaki. Always making him worry (behind a mask of cool indifference, of course) with her naiveté of the world, always forcing him to save her on pain of death by the old hag or Tezuka's laps. Ryoma sighed.

"Troublesome girl," he muttered softly under his breath.

"What, Ryoma-kun?"

His heart almost literally jumped into his throat at the sound of that sweet, lilting voice. Tenshi was standing in front of him, head cocked to the side in curiosity. For a moment, the Prince of Tennis stared stupidly back. The sound of Inui's "Ii…data" and scribbling pen quickly jolted him to his senses.

"Hn. Nothing," he said in monotone. Coughing to cover up his sudden lack of composure, Ryoma shoved his suddenly clammy hands into his shorts pockets.

"Nyah, Ochibi, you're so rude!" Eiji exclaimed indignantly. The acrobatic red-haired tennis player looped an affectionate arm around Tenshi's shoulders. "Don't listen to this ice cube. Hey, do you want to eat with us, Tenshi-kun?"

The boy smiled apologetically. "Sorry Kikumaru-san, but I've got to sit with my team. Aniki is a bit, er, paranoid about strangers and me. I came to see if Osakada-san is feeling better."

Ryuzaki-sensei folded her arms chuckled. "Well you're quite the gentleman. Looks like you've been taught well."

Tenshi grinned. "Actually, you'd be surprised how much my teammates are like you guys." He suddenly clapped his hands together. "Hey, you all want to meet them?"

"Yes," Inui said immediately. "Ii…data."

"What?"

"It's just something he says a lot," Oishi offered by way of explanation. He looked over at his buchou and coach. "Tezuka, Ryuzaki-sensei? What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea. You don't mind us scoping out the competition, do you, Nakahara-san?" Ryuzaki-sensei asked.

Tenshi shook his head. "Not at all. Would have happened sooner or later, anyways." He gestured towards a table near the windows where some boys were sitting, their features thrown into shadow by the light behind them. "Come on, they don't bite. People, at least."

"Unlike some pineapple-heads we know," Kaidoh hissed softly.

"WHAT'D YOU SAY MAMUSHI?"

"Fsh."

As they approached the table, Ryoma's first thought was that those foreign guys sipping tea (with their _pinkies _out!) and eating scones couldn't possibly be like his teammates. They had the same aura as Hyotei –who, of course, was sitting apart from everyone at the opposite end of the dining hall. Well-off, detached, "above-it-all" attitudes.

And then the redhead with a muffin still stuck in his mouth jumped up and yelled, "Chibi-chan!"

And Kikumaru-senpai meets his match.

"Gregory, you shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Tenshi laughed, no longer speaking in Japanese. Ryoma cocked an eyebrow. So the kid could speak fluent English. Another reason he was _absolutely not Ryuzaki. _Not that Ryoma was looking for her in the boy.

Definitely not.

"Where's my beloved older brother?" Tenshi asked, looking around the table. "Mack, wasn't he here just a minute ago?"

One of the more mature-looking ones, a Jewish boy who seemed to be fussing over the whole table, spoke up. "I think he left to go to the bathroom five minutes ago."

"Who are your friends, Tenshi?" added another boy. "That uniform…you're from _Seigaku _High School, aren't you?" he said, answering his own question. "You've won the Nationals for quite a few years now, haven't you? The "Dream Team", as many magazines call you. Tezuka Kunimitsu, captain, Oishi Shuichiro, vice-captain, Eiji Kikumaru, doubles player with-"

Everyone's attention was pulled to the far end of the table by a creepy laugh.

"Okay, that's enough Mark. You don't want people accusing you of being a stalker to the police again," a brown-haired boy remarked, lifting his head up sleepily from the table. "We had a hard to explaining that one to the Headmaster, no?" He turned his head to the Seigaku regulars and smiled again, sending chills down everyone's spine (excluding Fuji).

"Oi, Henry, quit scaring our competitors," joked the muscular player sitting across from what appeared to be America's equivalent of Fuji Syuuske. "You're stealing Alec's thunder."

"Shut the hell up, Benjamin," the orangey-headed guy next to him grumbled. "You're one to talk."

"Uh, guys," Tenshi said warningly.

"Oh yeah?" The muscular player stood up and glared at his neighbor. "What's that supposed to mean, Ginger?"

"_Guys_," Tenshi implored.

"Do you want to die young, idiot? No, calling you an idiot would be an insult to all the stupid people in this world!"

"Why you-"

"_WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE HELL UP? I'M TRYING TO EAT MY DAMN CAVIAR HERE!"_

Out of the blue, a large glob of gooey black stuff catapulted past Tenshi and Ryoma's heads, hitting the muscular player and his redheaded companion square across the chest with a satisfying _squelch. _A frowning, wavy-haired brunette with a reloaded spoon of fresh caviar between her elegant fingers suddenly appeared, uttering a stream of curses.

"Ah, Hazel-nii-chan," Henry said genially after the she-demon paused for breath. "Can I try some of that?"

Tezuka blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ah, instant relief.

Fuji was the same as usual. Smile smile smile, creepy leer, smile.

Oishi fainted backwards into a very confused Eiji's arms.

Momoshiro and Kaidoh somehow managed to miss all this and were engaged in the staring/glaring smack down of the century.

Ryuzaki-sensei was the referee of said smack down above.

And Ryoma felt what remained of his sanity split in two at the realization that his baka senpai-tachis…had clones.

::::: Line Break :::::

Echizen Ryoma was a lazy, asexual, tennis-obsessed, emotionally retarded, otherwise normal sixteen-year old boy.

So it was rather amazing that he could empathize with a certain auburn-haired person sitting below the tree he was napping on at the moment.

"Ano, Ryoma-kun," Tenshi Nakahara said hesitantly.

The Prince of Tennis rolled over on his bed of branches, causing a few leaves to drift downwards, signifying that he was listening.

"I apologize for my teammates', er, behavior this morning. I hope you weren't too traumatized by it." A pause. Then: "No offense meant, it's just that one of your teammates fainted, and it seemed like-"

"Oishi-senpai's just like that," Ryoma cut in. Taking a swig of Ponta, he added, "Besides, if I were traumatized by something like that, I would be in a coma by now, thanks to my idiot senpais."

Tenshi laughed loudly, throwing back his head to look up at the cat-eyed boy sprawled among the leaves above. "You're not one to mince words, are you Ryoma-kun?"

"Hn." To be honest, this was the most he'd ever talked to an acquaintance. Ryoma wasn't one to blab his life story to strangers, but with this boy, words fell from his mouth before he had time to stop them. Conversation was easy, natural. Unlike with a certain braided girl he knew.

Oh right, he wasn't supposed to be thinking of her right now.

"How was your practice, by the way?" Tenshi's voice dragged Ryoma out of his musings.

The tennis prodigy shrugged, sending down another flurry of leaves. "Tezuka-buchou made us run laps and…other stuff." He shuddered at the memory of Inui's latest Penal-Tea, which he'd drunk as punishment for "being absentminded", according to Tezuka. Well it wasn't his fault that he'd just met Sakuno's doppelganger! "What about you?" he asked.

Tenshi sighed. "I didn't get to do much. Aniki hasn't let me train with everyone on the team since I got out of my, um, treatment."

"Oh."

"Ah, but I promise I'll find time for our match before the Nationals!" Tenshi added hastily.

"Whatever." Ryoma was about to pull his cap over his eyes and go back to his nap when a distant bugle sounded. Immediately, Tenshi stood up, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Ryoma-kun, we better hurry," he called up the tree.

"Why?" And just when he was about to settle in, too.

"The free-for-all's about to start!"

The what now?


End file.
